


The Wrong Pudding

by Kittywitch



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 14:57:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8849386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittywitch/pseuds/Kittywitch
Summary: This is part of a secret Santa gift. The prompt was six/Peri friendship and I was amused by the idea of the universe's biggest anglophile subjecting his best friend to an English Christmas.And I may not know much about Christmas pantos, but neither would Peri and she still managed the "oh no it isn't!" exchange.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hernameisevilevelyn](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=hernameisevilevelyn).



 

Peri broke the skin of the dessert with her spoon, revealing a slightly paler shade of brown and a much softer texture. She put it in her mouth and her eyes rolled back in her head with delight. Instant chocolate pudding may not have been the finest delicacy in the world, but it tasted very much like home, and Peri had been delighted to get her hands on a box. For one thing, it was one of the few foods she could consistently make without anything going wrong, even in the mislabelled chaos that was the Tardis galley.

This moment of quiet was to be short-lived, of course, because the Doctor was unable to do anything quietly and he took that precise moment to enter the room. She would have given him more grief over it if she weren’t the same way herself.

“Peri, have you seen my flowered waistcoat-“ the Doctor began, hands patting his pockets distractedly. Peri had to wonder if he meant a different flowered waistcoat then the one he was wearing or if he’d forgotten he had already put it on. Either he remembered, or the sight of Peri’s snack distracted him. She wondered if the Doctor was going to try and have it off her. He didn’t quite seem to understand the concept of “my food” or “your food”, everything edible on the Tardis was simply “food” and up for grabs even if Peri was actively eating it.

 

“What are you eating?” he asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Puddin’.” Peri said thickly around a mouthful. The Doctor looked unconvinced.

“Pudding?” he repeated. “Oh, no it isn’t!”

“Oh, yes it is!” Peri retorted, every bit as theatrical as the Doctor. Peri swallowed and pointed at the Doctor with her spoon.

“Alright, wise guy, if this isn’t pudding, than what is it?”

“Some sort of non-Newtonian fluid… or a chocolate custard.” the Doctor answered, picking up the cup and examining it carefully. He dipped his pinky finger in the cup and tasted the confection with a critical expression.

“Hey, I _was_ eating that non-Newtonian fluid.” Peri whined sarcastically. She made a grab for it, but the Doctor had started pacing around the room dramatically and failed to notice.

“You poor, deprived child!” the Doctor exclaimed. “It’s high time you tasted _real_ pudding. As opposed to… whatever _this_ is!” He spooned another fingerful into his mouth.

“I’d like to see a Christmas with _that_ as the centrepiece, quite memorable but for all the wrong reasons.”

“It’s not a Christmas thing, it’s just a dessert thing-” Peri began, but the Doctor clapped a hand around her shoulder and was already pulling her from the room.

“Pull out a jumper, Peri, we’re having a proper British Christmas! Pudding, crackers, panto, I’m going to show you how Christmas should be!”

“You aren’t even actually British, Doctor! You’re an alien!” Peri protested.

“And you’re an American.” the Doctor countered. “But that no excuse for either of us.”


End file.
